Mother sow! Our great mother sow! Reign over the biggest ever sty!
Your ensphered flesh Swelling, as if all to encompass, Every hour of every day on others' refuse, Gloats over growing garbage heaps. Those tiny little eyes of yours Flicker through their hardly visible slits, In gluttonous expectations. Your piglets will dig and dig and burrow With their curly little tails upturned and snouts narrow On spoils to fatten themselves and frisk Without ever any risk Of going to the butcher's block. Thanks to patronage The sty with its huge garbage Has become their patrimony.
For you my honey There will be no lack of leftover Forever and ever. Even that spotty old jackdaw With his long miasmatic shadow Never weary of scavenging Now himself a-tiring Has reserved the sweeping For you mother sow! Our great mother sow! Glory to thee, cylindrical sow!